Soulless Justice
by moviegeek03
Summary: When Castiel calls, Dean leaves a very tense Bobby with Sam in hopes the two will talk things out.  A hunter seeking revenge just might make Bobby put his anger aside…Set after 6x11.  Hurt!Sam, Protective!Bobby, Dean, and Cas. NOW COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So the way things are between Bobby and Sam right now is absolutely breaking my heart, but did give me the idea for this story. It is a WIP, but I really wanted to get the first chapter up before tonight's new episode. Please let me know what you think. Comments are very much appreciated!

Chapter 1

An odd tension had settled over the house. The strain wrecked havoc on the residents as Bobby tried to avoid the newly re-souled Sam, and Sam did his best to keep his distance. All this left Dean beyond stressed and clueless on how to fix what was once a loving father-son relationship between his brother and Bobby.

So, yet again, Dean sat alone in the kitchen, nursing a nearly empty bottle of beer at seven o'clock in the evening. Sam was researching away up in their bedroom while Bobby tinkered on cars in the freezing cold, just as the two had done for the better part of the last week. Dean sighed and rubbed a hand through his spiky hair as the pressure began building in his head. The alcohol really had lost its desired effect and did little to mask the stress the situation was causing.

His cell phone chirped from somewhere within his pocket, and he quickly dug for it. Once found, he answered the phone without bothering to check the caller id.

"Hello?"

"Dean…"

"Cas?" Dean stood from the kitchen table, upsetting the chair in the process.

"Yes…"

"Why the hell are you calling me? I thought you just popped in now. Did you loose your mojo again?"

"No. I'm afraid rogue angels may be tracking me. I did not want to lead them to you."

"Rogue angels?" Dean asked with worry.

"Yes. They were apart of the opposition in heaven. They managed to escape to Earth. I believe it is the ones that are less violent, but I did not believe you would want me to chance bringing them to you considering everything that has recently happened."

Dean looked out the window at Bobby fumbling underneath the hood of a rusty Ford pickup. "Yeah. Thanks. So that explains the phone instead of the teleportation, but that doesn't explain what you need. What's going on Cas?"

"I need your help. These angels may or may not be tracking me. I have felt their presence on occasions, however I have not been able to locate them long enough to capture."

"So you want me to help you track these dicks?" The whole idea sounded crazy to Dean…but it would get him out of the house for a day or two…

"Yes. I could use your assistance with this."

"Ok. Sam and I will pack up and head out in the morning. Speaking of Sam, you and I need to have a long talk…" Dean's voice held the rage he felt.

"I'm not sure I understand why. Sam seemed fine to me, a little dazed, but overall intact."

"Well thank you so much for clearing up the haze for him…"

"Dean…I don't…"

"He didn't remember anything about the past year Cas," Dean says with less venom.

"Oh…"

"Yeah. Look, I'll just…I'll head out in the morning. Where are you anyway?"

"Just outside of Chicago."

"Ok. It'll take me awhile to get there, probably around 9 or 10 hours."

"Thank you, Dean." Castiel quickly responded before hanging up his phone, leaving Dean no time to answer.

"Craptastic," Dean grumbled before heading towards the stairs.

He made his way down the hall towards the closed bedroom door. He pushed it open; the sight the door had been concealing brought a smile to his face. Sam's head lay near his laptop with his arms sprawled out across books littered on the desk. His eyes were shut tightly, his breathes even and calm. For once Dean had no desire to tease his brother for drooling over the keys. He was just happy to have the kid finally back and functioning….granted Sam was still pretty exhausted and hazy at times. _Guess a year without a soul will do that to you…_

Dean really hated the idea of waking his brother to pack when Sam really could use the extra rest. With that in mind, Dean silently began to stuff some clothes and necessities into his duffle. As much as he loved having his brother, _his real brother_, on the hunt with him, he really wished he could just leave Sam behind for this one. He continued to move about the room, grabbing the occasional item. Once finished he took another close look at Sam. Dark shadows were starting to form underneath his eyes, and a plate of food sat untouched across the table.

_Maybe I should let him stay here. Kid looks like crap. Hell Bobby hasn't been much better. If I leave them…_

Dean didn't like the situation, but knew Sam and Bobby desperately needed to hash things out. He wasn't sure they would ever get there with him in the house to mediate and communicate for the two. As much as he loathed leaving Sam, he hoped this would work…

"Sammy," Dean said softly. He walked over to his brother and gently shook him. Sam startled awake, a little unsure of his surroundings until his eyes settled on Dean.

"How long was I out?" Sam ran his hand over his face and then through his long hair.

"Not sure man," Dean responded. "You were pretty out of it though. So I'm guessing awhile kiddo."

"Damn…I really wanted to get some of this work done." Sam stared pitifully at the research that stretched across the table, and Dean had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes at his geeky little brother.

"Look, Cas called a few minutes ago. He needs some help with a few escaped angels that are outside of Chicago. He's worried they might be tracking him, so he wants some back up."

"When are you wanting to leave?"

"Not 'til the morning."

"Ok," Sam responded before moving towards his duffle bag that had been discarded underneath his bed. Just as he was about to pull on the strap, Dean grabbed his arm. "What?"

"I want you to stay here." Hurt flickered across Sam's face, and Dean could see the argument welling up inside his brother.

"Dean, come on. You know I can…"

"I know, Sam." Dean moved so that he could look straight in his brother's eyes. "But you need to rest. You're obviously still exhausted."

"Dean I'm fine, really. I could just sleep on the car during the drive if I needed to."

"Sam I think you know that isn't the only reason why I want you to stay here." A forlorn look graced Sam's face. "You and Bobby need to patch this stuff up. I get it; I really do. But after everything we've been through…you guys need to talk and fix this."

"Dean, I want to. I just….I don't know if it can be."

"Well, then you need to find that out. And you aren't going to do that if I'm here."

"No, Dean," Sam practically whined.

"Listen, you've two have just been talking to me and avoiding each other. With me gone, you guys won't have a choice. Besides, we need the two of you to work together on the "Mother of All" stuff. He needs your help whether he admits it or not. So I want you to be benched for this one and do that…for me, Sammy."

Sam nodded his head in agreement. He turned and slumped back into the chair by his laptop. He ran a hand over his face before resting his head in it and speaking. "And it's Sam…"

That definitely brought a smile to Dean's face as he walked towards his brother. He pulled him back up from the chair and gently shoved him towards his bed. "Go back to sleep bitch, in a bed this time."

"Whatever jerk," Sam mumbled tiredly but still moved the rest of the way to the bed. "Thanks," he said before tugging off his boots and trading his jeans for sweats.

Dean nodded in acknowledgement before leaving the room.

SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN

The following morning found Dean quietly loading up the Impala. Sam was still in his room, sprawled across the bed. Bobby sat in the kitchen, staring sullenly at his cooling coffee. Dean sighed as he glanced back at the kitchen window. Bobby was not exactly thrilled when Dean told him Sam was staying behind; in fact, he was about as far from thrilled as humanly possible. He had grumbled, avoided, and hid out for the rest of the night.

"Need any help?"

Dean quickly turned around at the voice. Sam still looked rumpled from sleep and appeared to have thrown on whatever clothes were near his bed.

"Think I got it, but thank you," Dean said as his closed the trunk. "How you feeling this morning?"

"Honestly?" Sam asked as he stepped closer to the car and stared off towards the house. "Nervous as hell."

Dean's brow furrowed in confusion, but then he followed his brother's line of sight. Sam's eyes seemed glued to the kitchen window where Bobby sat. "Sammy…"

"I know Dean," Sam said as he finally tore his gaze away from the window. "I know I have to do this or at least try. But…it's hard, Dean. I know what I did, and I'm not sure there is any way back from that. I want there to be but…"

Dean gently nudged Sam's shoulder with his own. "Just give him some time kiddo. You two will figure it out."

"I hope so."

"Well I know so, Sam. And when has your awesome big brother ever been wrong?"

"Well there was that time in Vegas…"

Dean punched Sam in the arm. "I thought we agreed never to bring that up man!"

"Sorry," Sam laughed. "I couldn't resist."

With the smile on Sam's face and the laughter, Dean honestly didn't mind. His phone chirped from within his pocket. He pulled it out to read the text message. "Damn…Cas learned how to text." He held the phone up to his brother in disbelief.

"Wow! Never thought I'd see that."

"Me neither," Dean laughed. "Well, I guess I better head out." Dean put his hand on Sam's shoulder and gently squeezed. "Don't worry so much. You'll work this out, Sam."

"Thanks," Sam said around the emotions that threatened to clog his throat. "Be careful, and if you two need help…"

"I'll call."

Sam smiled, and Dean walked around to the driver's side of the Impala. "I'll be back in a few days."

Sam only nodded, trying to force back the smile that was starting to fall. The door to the car was shut, and the engine revved loudly to life. Seconds later the tires were eating up the road.

Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He turned to go back inside the house, but noticed Bobby standing at the window. Their eyes met for a second before Bobby quickly turned and headed out of the room.

"This is going to be a long couple of days," Sam groaned.

SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN

Bobby had spent the majority of the day hiding out in the den, trying his best to work through some of his books to find information on this "Mother of All." The stress of everything was taking its toll, and a headache throbbed behind his eyes. The pain dulled his senses so much that he didn't even notice Sam walk into the room until the boy set down a mug of hot coffee on the desk.

"Thought you might need this," Sam mumbled. "Sorry if I startled you."

Bobby only nodded in acknowledgement. He felt as if he was starting to become immune to Sam's apologies and puppy dog eyes, but one quick glance at the youngest Winchester quickly proved that he wasn't there yet. That didn't change his mindset though. He sipped greedily from the mug and went back to pouring through the books.

Sam sighed and pulled up the chair across from Bobby. "I….I know this is hard, Bobby. And I wish…"

"You can't change the past, boy."

"I know that. God I know that. I just wish there was some way…"

Sam's words were cut off by the sounds of a shotgun and shattering glass. Neither Bobby nor Sam had any idea of what was about to come….


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, and put this on their alerts! I was really excited by the response this has gotten so far!

Chapter 2

_Neither Bobby nor Sam had any idea of what was about to come…. _

Glass shards splattered everywhere, biting into Sam and Bobby's skin. The hunters shook off the shock enough to attempt to dodge the offending objects as much as possible. The hunters hunkered under Bobby's large wooden desk, both frantically searching their memory as to where weapons were hidden in the room. The sound of shotgun cocking and a chilling voice from outside stopped them dead in their tracks. "Winchester! Get your ass out here now!"

Bobby saw a shiver run through Sam's tall frame as the young hunter tried to process what was happening. "Ya know who it is?"

"No," Sam said as he tilted his head towards the shattered window. "It must be somebody I met while I was…"

"Damn."

"Yeah," Sam sighed. _I hate this…_

With a determined look, Sam pushed himself off the floor and began walking hunched over towards the broken window. Bobby's hand gripping his bicep was the only thing to stop him from putting himself in front of the window.

"What the hell are ya doin' ya idgit?"

"The guy wants me, not you," Sam said as if it was the simplest thing in the universe.

"So? You just gonna hand yourself over to him?"

"Bobby, I'm not going to let you get hurt because of something I did. Not again. I'm going."

Sam tried to shake off Bobby's hand, but the older hunter's grip only tightened.

"The hell you are!" Although not completely ready to forgive Sam, the anger around Bobby's heart was slowly starting to melt. He pulled Sam back down to a sitting position next to him on the floor. "You don't even know who or what the bastard is yet! So we are gonna sit here and figure out somethin' to do about this whole damn thing before ya start goin' off to get yourself killed! Got it?"

"Yes sir," Sam gulped. He hadn't even considered the possibility of the thing outside not being human.

"Good." Convinced Sam was staying put, he finally let go of his arm.

Sam thought for a few minutes, silently biting on his lower lip before speaking. "Then use me as bait."

"Have you lost ya damn mind? Do ya have any idea what that brother of yours would say if he was here?"

"I know," Sam said with exasperation. "But what other option do we have? We can't exactly call the sheriff in on this since we don't know what we are dealing with yet. So I'm not seeing any other option here!" Sam let his frustration at everything leak into his voice….Bobby, his guilt, and now this…

"Fine," Bobby snapped back. "You go out the front and try to find 'em. I'll go out through the back and try to get the drop on 'em while ya distract 'em."

Sam nodded, grabbed his gun, and slowly rose from the creaky hardwood floor. Bobby followed. They moved towards each part of the house with stealth, remaining hunched over to prevent the guy or thing outside from see them. Sam reached the front door and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He heard Bobby crack open the back door of the house.

With his left hand, Sam opened the door; his right hand firmly held the gun. He edged his way onto the porch, staying and close to the house as possible. He looked towards the yard filled with stacked heaps of junked cars and parts. Everything seemed completely normal, except everything just felt completely wrong.

Sam stepped away from the porch, knowing that whatever was after him had to be hiding amongst the wreckage littering Bobby's junkyard. It left Sam little option. He kept close to the stacked cars and held his gun at ready. He had no idea where Bobby was, which worried him more than anything; with the way his luck had been, he would end up shooting Bobby rather than what they were searching for.

Gravel crunched under his books and dust clung to his jacket. The air seemed to grow colder; Sam's breaths puffed out in little clouds. But most of this went unnoticed as Sam tuned his senses towards finding whatever hid out in the yard.

Sam's body was pressed against a rusty blue Crown Vic stacked on top of a Station Wagon moments later when he suddenly felt himself being pulled backwards and his gun leaving his grasp. The sharp edges from the car's broken window cut through the fabric of his jacket, biting into the skin underneath. His breath was knocked out of his lungs as he was flung down onto the tattered leather of the front seats.

Before Sam had time to register what was happening, a strong body was on top of him, pressing him back down onto the seats. The man's jaw was firmly set, and unbridled hatred practically flowed off the man. His knees pushed painfully into Sam's ribcage. The man landed punches across Sam's face, splitting his lip and bruising his cheek.

"What…" Sam forced out.

"Shut up," the man snapped back. He moved his hands to Sam's throat. "You don't get to talk you son of a bitch."

Sam tried to buck the guy off of him, but his hands only tightened around Sam's throat. Spots began to dance across Sam's vision, and his lungs burned. He was close to unconsciousness when it abruptly stopped. The man slid off of him with a pain filled grunt, landing across the floorboard of the car. Sam coughed roughly as the air returned to his lungs. Sam's vision slowly cleared so that he could see Bobby standing in front of him, the butt of his shotgun held firmly in the air near where the man's head was seconds earlier.

"Sam! Can ya hear me?"

"Yeah," Sam rasped out between coughs. After a few minutes he accepted Bobby's hand and was pulled into a sitting position. He leaned to the side and spit blood out of his mouth. Concerned flickered across Bobby's face before the stoic look he had been wearing for the past week became firmly set once again.

"Recognize him?"

Sam looked to the floor and shook his head.

"Didn't figure ya would. Let's get him inside. We'll put him in the panic room and run the usual tests. See what we're dealin' with here."

Sam nodded again and pushed himself out of the car. He swayed when his feet hit the ground; Bobby's calloused hand steadied him. He sent a grateful smile towards the hunter, but Bobby didn't respond. He only reached back into the car to haul the man out.

SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN

The trek to the panic room was slow goings. Exhaustion combined with the muscled guy weighed heavily on Sam. Bobby ended up pulling more of the unconscious bastard onto his shoulder than Sam. By the time they finally made it to the living room, Bobby pushed Sam towards the couch. He dragged the guy to the basement and into the panic room by himself.

Upstairs, Sam dropped down onto the couch with a sigh. He slowly slid out of his torn and bloodied jacket before stretching out across the couch. He closed his eyes as the soreness started to make itself known. Minutes passed, and he was close to sleep when Bobby returned to the room and tossed an ice pack on him. The coldness of it startled him, but he gratefully accepted it.

"I reckon the bastard's human," Bobby said as he took the chair opposite the couch.

"I was afraid of that," Sam mumbled.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

It means that I must have done something to him while my soul was on vacation in hell," Sam snapped. A look Sam took as anger crossed Bobby's face. "Sorry, Bobby," he sighed. "I'm just tired."

Bobby stood from the chair and reached for a blanket that sat on the back of it. He tossed it to Sam. "Then get some rest. I got 'em tied up downstairs so he won't be going anywhere soon." Then, just as he had done hundreds of times before, Bobby gently laid his hand on Sam's shoulder before heading towards the stairs. The small gesture brought tears of hope to Sam's eyes before he allowed them to close and sleep to overcome him.

SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN

Sam awoke hours later with a start. A loud clanging noise emanated from below him and sent his instincts on fire. He rose from the couch and grabbed his hunting knife from the table. Sam spared a glance towards the stairs, but it seemed as if Bobby had not woken.

The journey to the panic room was made quick thanks to the adrenaline now pumping through Sam's veins. Once at the heavy metal door, Sam opened the peephole before walking into the room. The man appeared to still be tied to the chair, but he had somehow tipped it over. Sam sighed and opened the door. The guy may be trying to hurt him, but Sam figured he had just brought it on himself and didn't want the guy to suffer any extra.

As Sam approached the toppled chair, he thought the man had knocked himself unconscious in all the fuss. He grabbed the legs and back of the chair and carefully righted the fallen piece of furniture. He was about to check the ropes holding the man down, when he suddenly found himself flat on his back with hands at his throat yet again and his knife flying out of his reach.

"Gah," Sam moaned.

"Should've checked the ropes first," the man smiled. "Never thought I'd see you get soft."

"What?" Sam managed to rasp out of his constricted throat.

"After what you did…" His hands tightened around Sam's throat. "You have the nerve to question me?"

"I….don't…remember…."

"That's rich Winchester. You mean to tell me you can't remember the day you ruined my life?"

"Guh…"

"Well, let's take a nice stroll down memory lane, shall we?" He let go of Sam's throat to reach for the knife Sam had lost in the scuffle. He ran the blunt side of the cold blade down Sam's cheek and throat before turning the blade and slicing across Sam's t-shirt clad chest. "Your grandfather recruited my son and me to help you two out on a hunt for Succubus. Only, you neglected to fully disclose the details of your plan to us." He cut up to Sam's shoulder; the blood ran down onto the cold cement of the floor. "You decided my son was the perfect bate, only you didn't give him a head's up to that!"

The knife was pushed deep into Sam's shoulder. He gasped at the pain, but kept conscious.

"Because of you, my son can never hunt again. When that bitch got wise to us, she messed him up. Doctors don't expect him to ever be able to walk again. And that is all thanks to!"

The memories started to flash behind Sam's eyes. He could see a young hunter standing beside scantily clad woman. Her eyes looked him up and down while her hand trailed across his muscled chest. Then everything changed. Something forced her eyes away from the man, and the seductive look quickly turned to anger. His own image and Samuel flickered across his vision before it was overtaken by the sounds of screaming and images of blood…

A painful twist of the knife brought him back to the present. He screamed as the knife slid in deeper. "Look….I can't…can't explain what I did. But I swear, I am so sorry and should never have…"

"That's right! You shouldn't have! And now," he pulled the knife out, "you are going to pay!"

Sam could see the man about to plunge the knife down into his chest. The blood loss and bruising had left him too weak to knock the guy off of his body. He was close to giving up when he heard the sounds of the door at the top of the steps creak open. The hunter on top of him cursed under his breath before pushing himself off of Sam. The knife remained in his hands, but before he made a dash out of the room he kicked hard into Sam's abdomen.

The contents of his stomach threatened to make an appearance, and his breath was stolen from his lungs. He could just make out the sounds of yelling and banging before he fell into the bliss of darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I really wanted to get this up at the end of last week, but homework kept me from finishing it. So, sorry about the wait! Hope you enjoy this chapter. There should be a couple more after this

Chapter 3

_He could just make out the sounds of yelling and banging before he fell into the bliss of darkness. _

Cold hands pressed down against his fevered skin. Fear flooded through his system as memories began to assault his exhausted mind. He tried to turn away, but the hands only gripped him tighter. A voice finally filtered through the panic. "Sam! Come on kiddo!"

Sam's eyes flew open, but took little notice of his surroundings at first. "Sam….It's me…Bobby…"

Sam's eyesight finally cleared enough so that he could see the concerned face of Bobby swimming in front of his face. "Sam?" He soon realized it was Bobby's hands pressing down on his chest, keeping him from rolling off of the couch. "You with me kid?"

"Yeah," Sam moaned. He cleared his throat and ended up throwing himself into a coughing fit. Bobby quickly slid a water bottle into his hands and guided it to his lips. After a few minutes, Sam was able to settle back onto the pillows of the couch. "Thanks."

Bobby nodded in acknowledgement. "So, you wanna tell me what your ass was doin' down in the panic room with that bastard?"

"Drake…"

"Excuse me?"

"His name is Drake," Sam solemnly said, turning his head down and away from Bobby.

"He volunteer that information boy?"

"I remembered it." Sam brought his eyes back up to meet Bobby's. The older hunter looked worn and worried, neither of which Sam had expected. "I heard a crash while I was sleeping, so I went to check it out. I found him still in the chair, but it was tipped over. He looked unconscious, and I thought he had hurt himself. So I went over to him to check…only I didn't check the ropes first. He jumped me before I had the chance to realize he was faking."

"You recognized him this time?"

"No." Sam ran his through his sweat-dampened hair. "He, um, when he started punching me, he started to explain why. He told me him and his son hunted with Samuel and me awhile back. I apparently used his son as bait for a Succubus. It figured it out before we killed it and tore into his son pretty bad. After he started talking, I started to remember it a little more. It still isn't too clear, but I remembered his name before he decided to go for my knife and carve into me."

A sad smile graced Bobby's face as he sat down on the edge of the couch by Sam's head. "Got ya pretty good." He gently checked around the bandage he had applied to Sam's shoulder. Blood was already starting to soak through the think gauze and stitches, causing Bobby to mentally curse.

"Did you get him?" The words came out weaker than Sam had intended. To Bobby, it made Sam seem all of the three year old he had first seen clinging to his big brother's leg all those years ago.

"No, Sam. I heard you yellin' and ran down to the room. But he pushed passed me before I could grab him. Knew you had to be hurt to let him go like that. Sorry, kiddo."

Sam nodded. "Not your fault. It's all my fault. If I…"

"Now hold it right there ya idgit!" Sam stopped and stared up at Bobby with wide eyes. "You can't change what ya did last year. It wasn't you, boy. You know that. It may have been wearing your face, but that's as far as it went. Now get that through your head right now. That…thing…from the past year, it wouldn't' have gone in that room to help Drake. Sam, you did. And as much as it scares the hell outta me, that's just who you are. Ya better remember that."

Sam couldn't speak around the emotions clogging his throat. A few tears slid down his face, but Bobby didn't draw any attention to them. "Thanks," Sam eventually rasped out.

Bobby patted Sam's uninjured shoulder. "How's your shoulder feelin?"

"It hurts pretty bad."

"I want ya to take some pills then get some rest. I'll come back in a couple of hours to check in on ya." Sam tried to push up from the couch, but pain stabbed through his shoulder. "Now I just told your ass to rest!"

"But what about Drake?"

"Let me worry about that Sam. I'm gonna lock you down in here then go through the rest of the house. But I'm thinkin' he made it outside. Just get some sleep bud."

Sam didn't need to be told any more. As soon as the pills hit his throat and his head hit the pillows, he was out like a light. Bobby pulled up the blankets and let his hand run through Sam's hair. He smiled fondly at the sleeping hunter before walking out of the room.

SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN

He felt cold and shaky when he woke hours later. Bobby was by his side again, only this time his hands were at his forehead. "What's going on?" Sam slurred more than said, as he was unable to completely shake sleep.

"You've got a fever bud," Bobby gently said. "I'm worried your shoulder is infected. I've tried to clean it up, but it isn't looking too good, Sam."

Sam nodded his head to show he understood what Bobby was saying. The movement made him a little dizzy and it took a few minutes to completely shake the feeling. Bobby sat with him the whole time, a worried expression gracing his face. "I think this is out of my league kid. We're gonna have to get you to the hospital."

"No," Sam said as he tried to push himself up from the couch. The pain through his shoulder and the weakness from the fever stopped him from making it more than a few inches off the pillow.

"Sam, just stay still for now. I'm gonna get everything gathered up and then I'll take ya."

"But….what about Drake?"

"I don't give damn about what happens to him. Right now my main concern is you. We'll get you to the hospital and fill in the sheriff about what's going on. Jody'll help us."

"Bobby…"

"This isn't up for discussion boy. Just sit back and rest as best ya can while I get the car pulled to the door."

"Be careful."

"I've got my shotgun. I think I can handle things, Sam."

Sam watched Bobby leave the room and head towards the car. His shoulder was killing him and his whole body ached from the obvious infection. He had no idea where Drake had gotten too after the fight in the panic room. "God, can this get any worse…"

The moment Bobby came back to drag him to the car, he regretted those words. Every step sent pain skyrocketing through his shoulder and caused his head to spin. But Bobby was there through all of it, trying to sooth and calm Sam as much as possible. If Sam hadn't been in so much agony, he would've smiled at the sight.

As bad as moving out of the house was, the real trouble began when the pair hit the porch…

A rustling sound echoed from the side of the junkyard. Neither of the hunters paid it any notice; their focus remained on getting Sam tucked comfortably into the car. The pair was a few feet away from the car, when the rustling noise turned into much more.

The first bullet whizzed past their heads and dug into the rusting metal of the old car. Bobby went on the alert, practically dragging Sam to the car. More bullets followed. Sam was vaguely aware the fact they appeared to be coming from behind some of the junked cars and that Drake had originally been carrying a shotgun.

Sam and Bobby did their best to keep their heads down and dodge their way to the car. Sam could feel the victory; the car was practically within reach. He steadied himself to take the last few steps to the door. Suddenly he was falling towards the gravel; his legs buckled and blood began to soak through his jeans.

The last thing he felt was Bobby's strong hands around his chest before the world went black.

SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN

"Son of a bitch!"

Dean looked down at his shirt and leather jacket, both of which were soaked in blood. Thankfully it all belonged to the rebellious angel lying in the mud. Dean and Castiel tracked down the pack of rogue angels fairly easily. The little group's leader, however, had decided to put up a fight. It ended with Dean earning a slit lip and the angel receiving a blade through his chest. After seeing their leader effortlessly slain by Castiel, the reluctant followers quickly fell into line behind Cas. Dean just wished they had decided that before their buddy died bloody all over his clothes.

"I am sorry you ruined your shirt, Dean," Castiel said.

"Yeah….well….don't worry about it. I'm just glad you rounded them up before they did much damage."

"Yes. Their insubordination will be dealt with, but their cooperation has made this much smoother than it could have gone. I thank you for your help."

"Any time, Cas." Dean walked over to the Impala and popped the trunk. He dug into his duffel bag, pulling out a clean t-shirt and flannel. The soiled shirts come off with a sickening squishing noise. He throws on the new clothes and leaves his leather jacket in the trunk to wash later.

He turned back to speak to Cas, but the angel was already gone. Dean smiled and shook his head. He closed the trunk and headed towards the driver's seat. He was about to sit when his phone started to ring from inside his jean pocket. The screen lit up with Bobby's name.

"Come on," Dean muttered to himself before answering. "Can't you two play nice for one freaking day?"

"Dean…"

Bobby's tone was not what Dean had expected. Gone was the anger and bitterness. "What's going on, Bobby?"

"It's Sam…"

SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN

A beeping sound assaulted his ears. His eyes remained closed, but he could sense the bright lights around him. His head felt fuzzy, and his body felt weighed down. Something lay across his mouth. With his eyes still shut, Sam sluggishly reached towards the offending object, only to be stopped half way there. "Mhmmm…"

"Sam? Ya with me, kid? Come on…"

The words were all the encouragement Sam needed to pry his eyes open. The bright lights of the sterile room sent agony through his head, and a whimper escaped his lips.

"Damn it…" No sooner had Sam heard the words did he hear the scuffling of boots on linoleum. The lights were dimmed, causing Sam to sigh in relief and open his eyes once again.

"Thank," he mumbled. His voice sounded haggard and worn. Bobby quickly reached for the ice water by the bed. He carefully moved the oxygen mask over so that Sam could drink from the cup. "Thanks, Bobby."

"No problem. How ya feelin?"

"Like crap…but better…I guess. What happened?"

"You remember me draggin' ya to the car?" Sam nodded. "Well, your friend Drake showed up with his shotgun. He got ya in the leg before I could get ya in the car. You lost a lot of blood on the way to the hospital. But they patched ya up."

"Did….did Drake hit you anywhere?" Sam asked with a great deal of worry.

Bobby huffed out a laugh. "I just told ya you have a gunshot wound in your leg to add to the stab wound in your shoulder….and you ask me if I'm ok? Unbelievable…"

"I'm sorry, Bobby. I just…"

"Sam…" Bobby leaned forward in his chair so that he could lay his hand on Sam's good shoulder. "You have no reason to apologize. None of this is your fault. I'm not mad at you."

"But, after everything…"

"It's ok, Sam. Don't worry about any of that. It's in the past, kid."

"Really?" Sam looked so scared, and Bobby was once again reminded of the Sam he had first met all those years ago.

"Yeah." Bobby reached up and ruffled Sam's long hair. "I'm still not cutting ya out kid. Don't you forget that."

Sam tried to speak, but was at a loss for words. Instead he nodded his head and smiled gratefully at Bobby.

"Now, just get some rest. I'll let the doc know ya woke up. And don't worry about that bastard. I called Sheriff Mills; she knows you have a hunter after you. She's looking out for him. And your brother is on his way. I called him when you were taken in the ER."

"You shouldn't…"

"Sam, don't worry about it. Just get some sleep."

Sam nodded and closed his eyes. He really didn't want to sleep, but it quickly overcame him.

He woke hours later. The lights were still dimmed and the moonlight cast a soft glow through the window blinds. The oxygen mask had been replaced by a nasal cannula. His mouth and throat still felt dry, and the water sitting on the bedside table looked extremely appealing. He attempted to reach for it, but his shoulder protested. He ended up back against the pillows whimpering.

"Sshh…" Hands gently tried to sooth away the pain. "I've got you, Sammy."

"Dean?"

"Hey kiddo. Here," Dean handed Sam a cup of water and helped him drink. "Take it easy."

"Thanks," Sam mumbled. The small movement had already exhausted him.

"Go back to sleep. Bobby and I will be here when you wake up." Dean ran his hand through Sam's hair. The combination of the words and the soothing ministrations quickly had Sam falling back to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry for the wait! Midterms were last week and pretty much drained me. I hope you like this despite the wait though! I appreciate everyone who has stuck with me on this! There should be between 2 and 3 more chapters left

Chapter 4

_The combination of the words and the soothing ministrations quickly had Sam falling back to sleep. _

The older hunters sat by protectively as a soft light shined through the blinds, casting a glow on Sam's pale face. The men were stiff from the hard, old chairs with which the hospital furnished their rooms. Neither had gotten much sleep as the noisy hustle and bustle of the hospital echoed outside the closed door. Yet none of it mattered as both Dean and Bobby noticed Sam was starting to wake.

His nose twitched at the nasal cannula, and his brows furrowed at the dull ache thrumming through his body. Through his muddled brain, he could hear familiar voices encouraging him to open his eyes. Despite his better judgment, he pried his tired eyes open. Something was blocking the harsh light from assaulting him. As he regained more of his senses, he realized it was his big brother.

"Hey," he croaked.

"Nice to see you back with us kiddo," Dean said around a small smile.

"Thanks," Sam said, trying to clear his throat. "Water?"

"Sure thing bud," another voice in the room said.

Sam turned towards the sound to see Bobby pouring water into a cup for him. He gratefully took the object and smiled towards the older hunter.

"Feeling any better this mornin'?" Bobby asked.

Sam mentally took stock of his body while he relished the coolness of the liquid against his sore throat. "A little." His voice had strengthened some thanks to the water. "My leg aches, and my head still feels kinda fuzzy."

"Just from the drugs kiddo. They had to pump you pretty full of them to go diggin' round in your leg for that bullet," Bobby gently told Sam. "Ya got lucky if ya..."

"How so?" Sam quietly interrupted.

"The bullet didn't go in too deep. They didn't have to do surgery on you at least."

"Oh…that's good then," Sam mumbled.

"You ok dude?" Dean asked, the worry obvious in his voice.

"It's just…what are we gonna do now?" Sam stared up at his brother and father figure with tired, sad eyes.

"_We_ are going to take care of things while you get some more rest, Sammy," Dean sternly said.

"But Dean…"

"Sam, you have busted ribs, an infected knife wound to your shoulder, and a bullet hole in ya leg. You ain't exactly gonna be up to workin' kid," Bobby's gruff voice spoke up from the other side of the bed.

Sam sighed. "So what's the plan?" The other hunters shared a look. "Come on guys…I deserve to know what's going on. I mean, I'm the one whose ass in on the line here."

"We really don't know yet," Dean huffed. "Sheriff has been keeping an eye out for Drake, but she hasn't had any leads yet. Best we can guess is the bastard is laying low. He's got to know you are in here and that you have people around you 24/7. He seems smart enough to know that much at least."

"Has he been around your place Bobby?"

"I've got one of the neighbors keeping watch. Told 'em I was having issues with a burglar, and he had hurt one of my nephews. As of this mornin' though, no one's been snoopin' around the place."

"Ok." Exhaustion was written all over Sam's face and leaked into his voice.

"Listen," Dean began, "don't worry about that right now Sam. You just get some more sleep and focus on getting better. We'll keep an eye out on everything until we can figure something out. Ok?"

"I guess…"

"Sam…" both Dean and Bobby warned at the same time.

"Ok, ok! I got it!" Sam shifted down under the blankets of the hospital bed. "Thanks guys." His eyes slid shut before Bobby or Dean had the chance to respond. Instead, the two moved back to their seats to keep watch.

SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN

The infection raged war against Sam's tired body, keeping in the hospital for days. The fever combined with the blood loss and pain had left Sam completely drained. He could barely muster up enough energy to smile at the doctor handing over his release papers. He was excited to finally be away from all the poking and prodding, he really was. But right now, all he could honestly think of was crawling back under the covers…preferably in his room at Bobby's.

After Sam signed all the forms and the instructions were given, a nurse came in with a wheelchair for him. With Dean's help, he eased off the bed and sank into the chair. Dean followed beside him, not commenting on his lack of complaining. Under most circumstances, Sam would be complaining about the chair and asserting his ability to walk on his own. Not today…today he was grateful for the assistance. Although the bullet hadn't gone into his leg very far, it had weakened the muscles so that walking on it was out of the question. Sam had to hobble around with a crutch. His arm remained in a sling, lying close to his chest. The knife may not have hit anything vital, but the infection had wrecked havoc on the shoulder.

The nurse finally pushed him through the sliding doors of the hospital and the bright sun welcomed on the other side. Bobby stood a few yards away with the Impala already running. The backseat had been made up for him; pillows sat up against the door and a blanket had been laid across the seat. Sam inwardly cheered for all of it.

"There you go sweetie," the nurse said kindly. "Let's get you settled so your brother and uncle can get you home. Sound good?"

"Definitely," Sam sighed. He smiled gratefully at the nurse as she helped Bobby and Dean get him carefully into the car. "Thank you ma'am."

"Of course dear. And," the woman reached into a pocket in her scrubs, "here is my card." She smiled broadly as she handed it over to Bobby. "If you boys need anything at all, just call me hun."

Bobby blushed but took the card. Both Sam and Dean suppressed the laughter that threatened to escape. "Thank you ma'am," Bobby managed to mutter.

"Please, call me Lori. And call me if you need anything. I may not be a doctor, but I know about as much as one." She pointed towards the card in Bobby's hand. "Has my cell on there, so you'll be able to reach me just about any time."

"We appreciate it Lori," Dean chimed in. "We'll definitely give you a call if something comes up. Won't we Bobby?" Dean sent his best shit-eating grin at Bobby.

The older man wanted to glare daggers at Dean, but refrained from doing so since Lori was still looking up at him. "Yeah, we sure will. Thanks again ma'am." Bobby was still blushing as he turned away and moved into the passenger seat of the Impala.

Dean took off down the road, driving as carefully as possible so as not to jar his injured brother. When they stopped at a red light, Bobby promptly smacked him upside the back of the head.

"Ow! What the hell Bobby?"

"You know exactly what that is for ya damn idgit!"

Sam could only laugh from the backseat as his brother did his best to play stupid and Bobby scowled at him the rest of the way home.

SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN

Once back at the salvage yard, Dean pulled as close to the steps as possible, not caring about the mud that would be coating the Impala. Bobby climbed out of the car with a shotgun held firmly in his hands. After unlocking the door, he moved to keep watch while Dean half carried Sam inside the house. With one final glance around outside, Bobby followed the boys in and locked the door.

Inside, he found Sam lying on the couch, catching his breath from the walk from the car. "You doing ok kid?"

Sam nodded his head. "Just sore."

"Need anything?"

Before Sam could answer, Dean walked back in the room with a glass of orange juice and a few pills. "Already taken care of, Bobby," Dean said.

Sam gratefully took the juice and the medicine. "Thanks." He leaned back against the worn cushions of the couch. "You see anything Bobby?"

"No…everything looks bout right, for now at least. Your brother and I will take turns keeping an eye out. See if we can catch 'em. Have a feelin' he'll be showin' up at night."

"Yeah," Sam sighed and rubbed at his eyes.

"Come on Sasquatch," Dean said as he moved towards the couch. "Let's get you into bed."

"I can just stay here. I don't really feel up to climbing the stairs."

Dean knew it had to be pretty bad if his brother was actually admitting to that. He reached down and grasped Sam's good shoulder. "Bobby fixed up the guest room down here for ya. You're going to take the bed, and I'll crash on the sofa in there when I'm not keeping watch."

"Thanks guys. I really appreciate it. I'm sorry I'm putting you through this."

Bobby walked over to Sam as Dean hoisted him from the couch. He drew the younger man into a small embrace. "Not your fault kid," he whispered into Sam's ear before letting him go. Sam smiled up at Bobby, and then shuffled off towards the bedroom with Dean's assistance. Bobby picked up his shotgun once again, checked it, and then cocked it quickly. His face was cold with anger and determination. _No one is hurting my boys…_

SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN

The locked clicked under masterful hands. The lock pick kit was tucked back into old jacket before the door was pushed open. It creaked slightly, but not enough to warn the inhabitants to his intrusion. His gun was held out in front of him as he searched for anyone that would get in his way. Nothing mattered to him at the moment. No one could stop him from his mission. He would find Sam Winchester, the bastard that had ruined his life, and finally put an end to everything.

Drake's confidence grew with each step. It looked empty, the two men who had been by Sam's side at the hospital appeared to be away from the house. Nothing stood in his way.

He crept towards the back of the house. Drake had seen the blood seeping through Sam's leg all those days ago; he knew there was no way the hunter could make it up those stairs. He found a door, slightly opened. The closer he got to it, the more he could see. It was obvious it was a bedroom, and Sam had to be hiding in there. Drake just knew it.

The door slid open easily. An eerie grin appeared across Drake's face as a sleeping Sam came into view. He silently strode to the bed. Once he reached it, he mounted the bed, careful not to wake Sam just yet. He settled himself before wrapping his rough hands around Sam's neck. As he applied pressure, Sam's eyes flew open. Panic flashed across his face as his eyes settled on the figure on top of him. Sam struggled to free himself. His shoulder and leg burned from the actions, but Drake did not budge.

He put more pressure on Sam's neck, cutting off most of his air. Drake couldn't wait to see the panic flair in Sam's eyes and the life drain from him. He looked down at Sam, excited to finally have his moment.

But instead of seeing fear and pain, Sam looked directly into Drake's eyes. Determination and confidence was written all over his face. "You son of a bitch," Drake mumbled quietly.

Sam smirked up at the man.

That was enough…Drake was determined to get this over with now. His hand blindly searched for his gun. Instead of finding smooth metal, his hand felt thick muscles hidden under flannel. His eyes traveled to where his hand rested. They widened as he found himself face to face with a very pissed off Dean Winchester.

Dean smirked as he grabbed Drake by the throat and hauled him off his baby brother, throwing him against the wall. He saw the butt of Dean's gun coming towards him before everything went black.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I am so sorry this took forever to update. My laptop had to have some parts replaced and b/c it is a Mac it had to be sent a couple hours away to have it done. But it is all better now and the chapter is finally finished! I plan on doing one more for this fic. Thanks again to all of you who have stuck with me for this!

Chapter 5

_Dean smirked as he grabbed Drake by the throat and hauled him off his baby brother, throwing him against the wall. He saw the butt of Dean's gun coming towards him before everything went black._

"No! Get away! Stop!" The screams rang from the panic room and rose up through the floorboards, startling Sam back into consciousness. He tried to sit up in the bed, but his injuries flared with pain, forcing a scream of his own out from his throat.

"Woah! Hey buddy…take it easy," a calm voice broke through the pain as soothing hands guided him back down onto the pillows. "Sam? You with me kid?"

Sam forced his eyes open. He saw Bobby's worried face hovering over him. Sam carefully nodded his head. The room spun around him as the pain spiked through his body. "Sick…" he croaked.

Bobby was quick to grab the trash bin from the floor and gently turn Sam towards it. The younger man lurched forwards and deposed of the meager contents of his stomach. "Gah!" he gasped. His stomach continued to roll, even when there was nothing left to throw up. Dry heaves took hold. Tears sprung to his eyes, and his arms shook.

When the heaving finally subsided, Sam went limp and would've face planted off the bed if it wasn't for Bobby. "I've gotcha. Take it easy."

"Thanks." Sam allowed Bobby to help him back under the covers. His whole body ached, but especially his shoulder. Fresh blood leaked out of the wound and stained his t-shirt a bright crimson. He felt hot and cold all at once, and he couldn't find a comfortable position for his sore body. Despite all of this, he managed to take a look at his surroundings. He still appeared to be on the first floor guest bedroom. But the room was in total disarray. Furniture lay knocked over in every direction. A set of bloody sheets lay discarding by the door.

"Where's Dean?" Sam's voice was ragged and gave away the pain and discomfort his body felt.

"Downstairs with Drake." Bobby placed his hand against Sam's forehead. The cool touch felt like heaven against Sam's fevered skin, and a whimper escaped his lips when Bobby took his hand away all too soon.

"Hold on boy," Bobby called out as he walked out of the room. He returned seconds later and placed a cold washcloth against Sam's forehead. Another scream came from the panic room, startling both men. "Damn," Bobby muttered under his breath.

"You should go down there. Make sure Dean doesn't kill Drake."

"What if I don't wanna?"

"Bobby…"

"Your brother can take care of himself just fine."

"I know. He's not the one I'm worried about, Bobby."

"Well, I'm not worried bout the bastard down there with him."

"Well I am," Sam snapped. "I get why he did this to me. It may not have been me that did it to him, but he thinks it was. And I can't blame him for that."

"The hell you can't!"

"Bobby," Sam said gently.

"Fine…I'm going. You just stay put. Your ass better not leave that bed."

"Don't think I could even if I wanted to."

"That bad?"

Sam just shrugged. Bobby glared at him from the doorway. "Ok, it kinda is."

Bobby's expression softened. "I'll call that nurse of yours. Got her card round here somewhere."

"You don't have to…" Sam said. But Bobby could tell the kid needed some extra help. "Unless you just want to see her again. You know she had it bad for you." Sam tried to smirk, despite how crappy he was feeling.

"Shuddup and get some more rest while I take care of that brother of yours."

Bobby could hear a small laugh as he closed the door behind him. He turned sharply and made his way downstairs towards Dean. He made a quick call to Lori, letting her know what was going on, before continuing towards the steps. The noises became louder as he approached the panic room. Clanging noise followed by mumbled curses and apologies echoed out from the sparse room. Bobby readied himself for what he imagined was waiting for him behind the heavy door before he cautiously pushed the door open to enter the room. He noticed Dean walking calmly over towards the desk and sit down on top. He then saw Drake bond to an overturned chair on the cold floor. Blood slowly seeped from his mouth, evidence of a split lip.

"Run into some problems Dean?"

"No," Dean smirked. "Not at all Bobby. Drake here just got a little excited and knocked over his chair. Busted his lip when he fell."

"Uh huh…" Bobby smiled slightly and shook his head at the younger man.

"Sam?"

"He woke up. His shoulder wound reopened though and looks infected all over again."

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered through gritted teeth. He started to stalk back over towards where Drake lay whimpering softly on the floor.

"Hold it, boy." Bobby was quick to intercept and hold Dean back.

"What the hell Bobby?"

"You and I may hold no sympathy for the bastard, but your brother does." Dean's face instantly softened. "Sent me down here to make sure you didn't kill 'em."

Dean shook his head. "You hear that?" he yelled at Drake. "Sam's the only reason I'm not ripping your ass apart right now!"

Confusion marred Drake's face, but he kept silent.

Bobby gently pushed Dean towards the still open door. "Go upstairs to Sam."

"What do you think we should do about…" Dean waved his hand at Drake.

"Might be a good idea to call for Cas. He can probably take care of things."

"Yeah, plus he owes me for helping him out the other night. I'll get him. And we should probably call Lori for Sam."

"Already did. She should be here soon."

"Thanks Bobby," Dean said.

Bobby sent Dean one last grin before turning back towards Drake. Dean didn't look back, despite desperately wanting to work Drake over more. Instead, he ran up the steps to his brother. Once at the door, he slowly opened it, revealing Sam curled up on the bed. Dean could easily tell his brother wasn't feeling any better. "Sammy?"

Sam lifted his head up from the pillow to look towards his brother. He attempted a small smile, but it was shaky. "Hey."

Dean crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. He carefully pulled sheets up around Sam's shivering form. Sam's skin felt hot to the touch, making Dean hope all the more that Lori would hurry.

Crashing noises echoed up from the basement, setting both Dean and Sam on the alert. Dean was about to rush back to the panic room when Bobby entered into the bedroom.

"Everything ok?" Sam asked weakly.

"Cas showed up."

"What did he do to Drake?" Dean spoke up.

"Well," Bobby ran a hand through his graying beard, "apparently it ain't the first time Cas has ran into trouble with the bastard." Both Dean and Sam looked up at Bobby with confusion. "The guy took to huntin' down some of Cas's angel buddies a couple months back. Didn't believe they were really angels and thought they had to be some type of demons or somethin'. Cas was real happy to see him." Sarcasm dripped from each word.

"So what happened?" Dean had perked up quite a bit at this news.

"He took 'em with him. Not sure what he's plannin' on doin' with him though. Didn't say. Just told me he'd been lookin' for 'em for quite awhile and why."

"Damn," Dean sighed.

"Yeah…"

Before either Dean or Sam could respond, someone knocked loudly on the door. Bobby shuffled out of the bedroom to get it, hoping it was Lori all the way. He threw open the door and a smile spread across his face.

"Can't say I've had that type of reaction from a man in quite awhile," Lori's smooth voice drawled out.

A blush crept over Bobby's face. He cleared his throat roughly. "Just relieved to see ya here. Sam's not doin' too great."

"What happened?" Lori pushed past Bobby and into the house, the seriousness of the situation fully hitting her. "He was much better when he had left the hospital."

"The bastard that put him in there to begin with showed back up…"

"Oh God," Lori gasped.

"He didn't get much time with Sam before his brother found him. But it was enough to reopen his shoulder. Pretty sure he's runnin' a fever again. Oh, and he got sick when he regained consciousness this mornin'.

Worry flickered in Lori's deep blue eyes. "Show me to him."

Bobby nodded to the nurse before walking back towards the boys. He knocked once then opened the door, allowing Lori to walk in. She smiled sadly at both Dean and Sam before setting her bags down and getting to work. Bobby slipped out of the small room, but Dean refused to leave. He stayed in the back corner, watching her every move.

"Hey Sam," Lori tried to sooth. "Not doing to hot are you kiddo?"

"Guess not," Sam groaned.

"Well, let's see if I can help you out with that sweetie." She slowly tugged off the blood stained shirt so that she could better access the wound. It looked puffy and red. The stitches had been torn, allowing fresh blood and puss to leak through on to the gauze. Sam hissed as soon as her glove covered hands glided over it, and Dean began to push himself up from the corner. "I know hunnie. I know…" Lori paused in her ministrations to run a hand through Sam's sweaty hair. He calmed some, but it was obvious he was still in a great deal of pain.

Lori sighed and rummaged through her bag. She pulled out a small vial along with a syringe. "Sam, how about I give you something to help with the pain? You look like you could use some sleep too. This should knock you out so you won't have to feel much of this." Sam shook his head no, hating the idea of being drugged unconscious. "Now, listen young man. I've got to clean and irrigate that shoulder of yours. I might have to even cut away some of the infected tissue you've got there. It's going to hurt, a lot hun. So…" She held up the syringe already filled with the medication for Sam to see.

"Ok," Sam sighed in defeat.

"Thank you." Lori quickly injected the needle into Sam. It didn't take too long for the medication to work its way through Sam's veins. His eyes started to droop shut, and he was fast asleep within minutes. "That's better."

Lori spared a quick glance over at Dean, who still stood at ready in the corner. "I can see you don't take to well to seeing your brother in pain?"

"I don't take well to seeing others hurt him," Dean snapped back.

"I'm not trying to Dean," Lori calmly said. She went back to working on Sam; skilled hands worked swiftly and carefully. It took longer than she would have liked, but she eventually had Sam's wound under control. His temperature still seemed too high. She moved to her other bag and pulled out a bag that looked to be filled with antibiotics and other supplies to start an IV. "Bobby told me on the phone he had an IV stand. Do you know where it is?"

Dean nodded and reluctantly went to grab it. It didn't take him long, but by the time he returned, Lori had already inserted the needle into Sam's hand. "Here." He moved the stand close to the bed.

"Thank you." After hanging the bag up, she began cleaning up some of the supplies surrounding the bed. Once all the materials had been moved from the mattress, she lifted the blankets high on Sam's bare chest. A silence fell over the room, making Dean shift awkwardly.

Lori looked up at Dean as he continued to shift and watch Sam. She shook her head and laughed softly at him.

"What?"

"You just remind me of your dad, Dean."

"Excuse me?" Dean moved from the corner and strode closer to the bed. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You are as bad as your father was when it came to one of you being hurt."

Dean looked on at her in confusion and anger.

Lori sighed. "Before my husband died, we owned a small clinic out in middle of nowhere South Dakota. A lot of hunters passed through there. We had enough paying patients to not worry about having to charge hunters who didn't have the money."

"How…"

"Drew, my husband, lived in a haunted house when he was a teenager. The ghost nearly killed him before a hunter showed up and finished it off. Drew became involved in the supernatural and the hunting world after that. Took a hunt here and there during college. I met him when he was in med school. A vamp decided I looked tasty enough and Drew intercepted. After that, I couldn't turn away from hunters either."

"Still doesn't explain how you knew Dad…"

"You remember that camping trip you took with him?"

"Took lots of 'em…"

"It was your first one, just the two of you, at least that's what he told me. He said you had gotten all A's on your report card and he decided to let you have the trip. You dropped your brother off at a friend's house and…"

"We dropped Sam off at Bobby's then drove a couple of hours away. It was the first time Bobby ever watched Sammy by himself."

Lori smiled at the young hunter. "You two had a nasty run in with a Wendigo if I'm remembering right."

"It showed up when Dad had gone to get some fire wood. I didn't know what the hell it was…I was seven…"

"It broke your arm and gave you a pretty awful concussion."

"And Dad got scratched up pretty bad."

"He'd heard about our clinic from some other hunters and knew it was the closest place to where you were. That was just the first time I met John. He came by a couple of different times over the years. Always kept me updated on you boys."

"I didn't know…"

"I didn't see a real reason to bring it up 'til now."

Dean smiled a little. "I guess so…"

"Now, if you're as much like John as I'm thinking with this, you aren't going to be leaving his side any time soon. So, I think I'm going to go find Bobby and get some food started for all of us." Lori stood up from the chair and motioned for Dean to sit. "I'll bring you both up something in a little while. He should stay asleep for a couple of hours. But he'll need food in him if he wants to get stronger. And so will you, sweetie." Lori brushed her hand over Dean's spiky hair before heading towards the door.

Dean turned in the chair quickly. "Hey…thank you."

"Any time, Dean. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go find Bobby."

Dean smirked. "Take it easy on him."

The smile she sent Dean back was nearly blinding. "Oh, I'm sure he can handle himself just fine…"

Dean shivered slightly at the implication of those words. As he turned back to Sam, he could hear Lori laughing all the way down the stairs. He shook his head a little before gently carding his fingers through Sam's hair. Despite the hell they had been through, he finally felt as if everything was finally going to be ok.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I've had an amazing time with this fic! The feedback has been incredible and so surprising! I appreciate everyone who has stuck by it! Thanks again! Also, just wanted to give anyone who does follow my fics a heads up…I plan on switching user names soon. I use moviegeek03 for LJ, youtube, and other sites, so I will be changing this one to that as well. Sorry for any confusion

Chapter 6

_Despite the hell they had been through, he finally felt as if everything was finally going to be ok. _

Two pairs of well-worn boots scuffed along white corridors, leaving occasional marks on the pristine floor. One limped slightly as the pair made their way around the corners. Rooms lay out in every direction. Machines beeped and whirred from some. Concern started to fill the oldest of the pair as he turned towards the younger.

"You sure you should be doing this Sammy?"

"It's Sam," he sighed. "And yes Dean…I need to do this."

"But you're still hurt. You should be using crutches. Don't think I haven't noticed you limpin'.

"I can't use the damn crutches," Sam huffed. "My shoulder is worse than my leg and the crutches make it hurt more." Sam turned and gave Dean his best puppy dog eyes. "And I just got to where my shoulder doesn't throb nonstop."

"Fine," Dean responded. "But I still think you should've waited."

"I've done everything Lori has told me to do. I've stayed in bed or on the couch. I've been taking all my meds. I haven't moved my shoulder. I think I'll be fine to do this Dean…"

Dean gave up arguing. He knew there was no sense in it when Sam was this determined. Instead he fell back into step beside his brother, keeping his hands at the ready should Sam's wounded leg give out on him at any point. He was well aware that Sam was still hurting, a lot more than he would ever admit. But Dean also knew how important this was to him…

"Here it is….room 412," Sam muttered softly.

"Well," Dean sighed, "let's go."

"I can't just barge in Dean!"

"I know that…I meant for you to knock."

"Oh…"

Dean sighed again and knocked softly on the heavy door.

"Come in!" called a voice on the other side.

"You ready?" Dean asked Sam.

"I think you should go in first. You know…just to make sure he's ok?"

"If you want me to Sammy."

Sam nodded, not even bothering to correct the nickname.

"Ok," Dean mumbled as he opened the door. The room was strangely welcoming. The walls were painted a light shade of blue and soft, pale yellow curtains adorned the small window.

"Um, hi." The voice came from the bed against the wall. The guy looked fairly fit, all things considering. He was paler than he probably should be, but he seemed to be in decent health. "Have we…um…have we met before? You look familiar…"

"No, don't think so," Dean answered. He moved closer to the bed. "You, uh, you know my little brother…."

"Oh, well," the guy shifted gently in the bed before offering Dean his hand, "I'm Jessie."

"Dean," he took Jessie's hand and shook it. "Dean…Winchester."

Jessie tensed a little at the last name. "Winchester?" He drew his hand away from Dean. "So that makes Sam your little brother…"

"That it does."

"I see…"

"Um, not sure you really want to hear this, but he's outside. He wanted…"

"I heard 'bout what my father did."

Dean nodded in acknowledgement. "Hear anything else?"

Jessie sighed deeply. "Heard a lot of talk 'bout Sam. Gotta say, the Sam I met doesn't match up with the one I always hear 'bout from hunters."

"Let's just say the Sam you met wasn't the one that's standing outside that door."

"What? Was he possessed or something like that?"

"Something like that," Dean smiled sadly.

"Is it true?"

"Is what true? I'm not lying if that's what you are getting at!"

"No…I mean…I remember Dad was talking a lot of crap before that hunt. He kept talking about how the Winchesters were the ones that brought on Lucifer and all his army buddies. Did Sam really do that?"

"It's…complicated. But yeah, Sam had something to do with that. Hell, I did too. We both became manipulated puppets in someone else's play."

"I'm sorry," Jessie said. "So I'm guessing it's also true you guys made it right?"

"Sam did."

"That why he was so…different?"

"Look, kid, Sam had to take on the bastard himself. He did it. He died in the process and some asshole of a demon decided he wanted Sam's ass back up here fighting for him. He just neglected to bring Sam back whole…so sorry if he wasn't quite what you were expecting."

"I didn't…I'm sorry," Jessie sagged against the pillows. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. "Look, Sam's outside. He feels awful about what happened. The Sam I know, the kid I raised, never would've let you get hurt like you did."

"Ok…send him in?"

"Ok…Just like that?"

"Just like that," Jessie said. "I'm not like my father."

Dean nodded his head and walked towards the door. Jessie watched as he stuck his head out to talk to Sam, but he couldn't hear the words. Seconds later, the tall, familiar form slunk in behind his brother. Sam glanced at Jessie in the bed. From his position on the pillows, Jessie could see tear fill Sam's eyes. He ducked his head away, his long hair falling into his eyes as if to shield him from Jessie.

"Hi Sam," Jessie finally broke the silence.

"H-hi…"

"Um, not sure if you remember or not, but I'm Jessie."

"I-I remember. A little fuzzy on the details, but I know what I did and I am so sorry."

"From what you're brother is sayin' wasn't you that did anything."

"But…"

"Look, with this business, bad things happen. Hunts go wrong. It's part of the life."

"It is. But I should've been able…"

"Whatever happened to you, I can tell you're different from the person I met months ago. You're actually saying you're sorry. The asshole I met didn't even apologize when I was bleeding out."

Sam flinched at that.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so blunt about it, Sam. I accept your apology, and I'm ok."

"What," Sam gulped, "what are the doctors telling you?"

"The Succubus tore into me pretty good. But with some therapy and a lot of work, I'll be up and about in a couple months. Could even start hunting again if I want to. But…"

The door opened and in walked a petite brunette. She stopped in the doorway, looking at Sam and Dean in confusion before turning her attention to Jessie.

"Hey Alli," the man called from his bed.

"Hi…am I interrupted something. I can come back later."

"No! Come on in babe."

Dean's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Sam just smiled kindly as the young lady took up a place beside the bed before introducing himself and his brother. "Um…I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean. I used to um…work with Jessie."

"So you guys are hunters too?" Alli smirked.

Both the brothers gaped at the woman as she giggled softly.

"Guys, this is Alli. She's my fiancé. We met when I was hunting with my dad, before all this happened. We both got called in on the same job. Dad never really liked hunting with women…so he got pissed when we kept talking after the hunt. But now, we're both getting out of the business."

"Can't say I blame you," Sam mumbled.

"Look," Jessie said as he sat up straighter in the bed, "what happened happened. It sucked, but I'm gonna be ok. Really."

Sam nodded, trying to keep the tears from flowing. He walked closer to the bed and grasped Jessie's hand. "Thank you," he said as he shook it.

Dean nodded his appreciation to Jessie and gave Alli one last smile before guiding Sam out of the room. At the doorway, Sam suddenly stopped and dug through his jacket. "Here," he walked back over to Jessie. "If you ever need anything, just call."

"Thanks," Jessie said as he turned the card over in his hand. "We will."

With that, Sam finally felt the tension leave his body as he limped out of the rehabilitation hospital and back to the Impala with Dean.

SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN

"Bobby, you need to just do it already! Quit being so damn stubborn and just…" Lori stopped half way through her sentence as she saw Sam and Dean enter the house and walk towards her and Bobby. The nurse had been spending a lot of time at the salvage yard, and it wasn't all due to the youngest hunter's now healing injuries. "Hi boys," she said sweetly, the tone the complete opposite of when she was talking to Bobby.

Sam and Dean both said hello to her and Bobby. Dean rummaged through the fridge looking for beers. "Damn it," he mumbled. "Guess we're all of out beer."

Lori took that as her out and promptly stood from her seat at the kitchen table. "Well then," she said as she picked up her bag, "why don't you take me to the store then Dean? We can get some more and get some other groceries. I'll fix us up some dinner tonight."

"But…why…"

"Come on sweetie." Lori grabbed Dean's arm and pulled him towards the door.

"I'll take you if you want Lori," Sam called. "Grocery shopping isn't really Dean's thing."

"Well, for today it is. You've been on that leg far too long from what I can tell. Don't think I didn't see you limping in here young man. Your brother and I will be just fine. You stay here with Bobby and get some rest." With that, Lori pushed Dean out the door and towards the Impala; he glared at her the whole way but bit his tongue. "Don't look at me like that Dean Winchester," Lori said once they were outside. "You know Bobby and Sam need to have a real talk. They'll never do it with us in the house. Sam's been going around like a lost puppy, and Bobby's been avoiding the subject again. I know they started patching things up while he was in the hospital, but now that he's not they've been skirting the subject. If we don't go they'll just keep on going like this forever."

Dean knew Lori was right, so he crawled into the Impala and took off towards the grocery store.

Inside the house, both Sam and Bobby sat quietly at the kitchen table. Bobby sat staring at his empty mug of coffee while Sam gazed intensely at the tabletop. Bobby finally cleared his throat loudly. "Want some coffee?"

Sam nodded and Bobby got up to start a new pot. After a few moments, all of which were spent in silence, Bobby returned and handed Sam his mug. "Thanks," he mumbled. His gaze flickered to Bobby then quickly returned to the mug on top of the table.

Bobby also stared intently at his coffee as he worked up the courage to start the much-needed conversation. "Look Sam," Bobby started. Sam's gaze left the coffee and turned towards Bobby. The wide puppy dog eyes weighed heavily on Bobby. "We need to talk, son."

"What about?"

"About…you and me…"

"I thought we did….in the hospital?"

"We did. I don't think it was enough boy."

"I know…I should've apolo-"

"No ya shouldn't have!" Bobby snapped before mentally cursing himself at the look on Sam's face. "Hell boy I ain't any good at this stuff. But I want ya to listen. You got nothing to be sorry for. What happened is in the past. I meant what I said in the hospital. Both you and that brother of yours have been a big part of my life for a long time now. I plan on keepin' it that way."

A small smile graced Sam's face and his eyes looked a lot shinier than they had before Bobby had started talking. "Thank you…really…thank you Bobby." Sam hobbled around the table and threw his arms around Bobby. The older man returned the gesture easily.

"What do you say we go watch the game on TV? I'd say your leg would feel a lot better if you stretched out on the couch." Sam nodded against Bobby's shoulder before moving out of the hug and following Bobby into the other room. They both settled on the couch and turned on the first game they could find. The roar of the crowd echoed through the small room and the announcer's voice detailed the replay. For the first time in a long time, both Bobby and Sam were completely at ease with each other.

SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN

"Son of a bitch," Dean mumbled as the grocery bags began to slide in his grasp. "Hurry up already Lori!"

Lori finally got the key in the slot and opened the door. But as soon as she stepped into the doorway, she stopped. Dean barely was able to stop himself from colliding into her.

"Damn it Lori…will you go in already so I don't drop this?"

"SHH!" Lori swatted at Dean's arms and took some of the bags from him. "Keep it down!"

Dean's face was set in confusion, and it was obvious he wanted to say something back. But he bit his tongue and followed Lori's gaze to the couch…

Both Sam and Bobby were snoring softly from the soft, worn cushions. A forgotten game played softly in the background, casting a soft glow on their faces. Their legs were spread out onto the old coffee table; abandoned mugs lay nearby. At some point, Sam's head had found it's way to Bobby's shoulder. His long hair fell around his peaceful face and down onto Bobby's flannel shirt.

Dean smiled warmly at the scene before turning back to Lori. She matched his smile as she handed him back the bag of groceries and pushed him towards the kitchen. She then moved toward the couch, grabbing an old throw along the way. She tossed it over the sleeping hunters. Her hands lingered a moment and reached up to brush Sam's hair away from his eyes. She then leaned in and gave Bobby a small kiss to his hat covered head. After one last look at them, she moved to the kitchen to start dinner.

Dean walked in and took a seat in the old armchair beside the couch. He couldn't stop smiling at the sight of his family finally back together and at peace. He leaned further back into the chair and allowed himself to truly relax as well. Things would get messed up again; Dean knew that. The Great Wall of Sam could tumble down. Eve could unleash a new force of supernatural baddies. Hell, even heaven could fall down upon them at this point…but for now, he decided to just relish in the fact that things were back to normal for them.


End file.
